your head is running wild again
by jehandora
Summary: and you could embroider constellations between her fingers and you could not be a monster and you could be the monster she prays you're not attacking a christmas tree ripping perfumed parchments into pieces inside her as you robbed her of her name [a poem following two christmases in the life of remus and tonks past remus/sirius]


**I**

angels turned to stars and the let you count them  
and she stole the moon for you and it deflated  
and she learned to knit and make her own sweaters with every hue of the rainbow so that she'd remember who she was while you followed him behind the veil and she'd be drained of color  
and it is the moon

and you could embroider constellations between her fingers  
and you could let it be christmas this year and next year and again and pretend you haven't forgotten  
and you could not be a monster

and you could

be the monster she prays you're not  
and you know  
like  
talk her name in your sleep  
like you did that evening in grimmauld place

like you did with his  
a century ago  
a book of history yellow and vomiting because they faded  
one that forgot your name  
and swallowed his  
and spitted it out  
but you can't let that happen to her name  
you can't  
_you can't_

_you're wearing molly's ombre sweater  
you never asked for rainbows, really  
when you were a little girl you would craft them between your clumsy fingers  
with paper and glitter  
and papa would wave his wand to help but wouldn't let you see_

_you never asked for rainbows and shit  
you learned you were supposed to be a princess and then growled that you were the dragon and then growled that no  
why couldn't you be both  
and you found your shit on your own  
and you showed them that aurors can be powerful_

_with pink hair and ripped tutu skirts  
when they don't get no shit from nobody  
when they fail stealth and tracking and listen to weird sisters  
and get drunk in pubs and have amazing sex with boys and girls and everything in between  
because no one could limit you no one and you were made of flames and you were _

_pink_

_and you could do it it was working it really was  
and you never asked for rainbows  
you gave them away  
you morphed them in your hair  
all you asked for was rain_

_clarity and adventure  
chocolate and freedom and gender equality  
and maybe a new cleansweep that isn't fraying on the edges  
but next thing you knew it was christmas  
and you should have been constantly vigilant_

_because a young auror that respects herself shouldn't get trapped by a bewitched mistletoe  
and get her stomach full with fireflies that prickled and swelled  
until she was inside out  
and his lips tasted of chocolate and firewhiskey  
but you'd seen the latter on your cousin's lips_

_you  
should  
_have known

**II**__

you were laughing in the kitchen, dancing your way around the counter, accio'ing the remaining firewhiskey and talking shit of umbridge  
and if you were a poet you'd parted your lips and tasted the cherry blossoms  
off of the cord of her neck  
but you're no poet  
so your fingers interlaced and she stole the last piece of chocolate cake under your filthy snout and you wouldn't have that because what kind of werewolf has his cake stolen

by a bubbly auror  
who has failed stealth and tracking  
and her hair is a meadow of violets today  
and her eyes  
and you can't set a foot on the youthful dew without being stung by thorns

and you sneaked like teenagers in the living room  
swallowing a secret spell from each other's chocolaty alcoholic breath  
as if it was illegal  
to taste like cocoa and chili and smell like cherries and have dead leaves on your hair because it is winter and it's better than a flower crown because you're a nymph and you need nothing to prove this  
but yourself

and here is the living room  
here is the grandfather clock that shoots heavy bolts to every passerby  
here are the christmas lights, one for every minute that ticks into darkness  
and where you kissed him again by his mother's portrait  
and when you died again with her blessing

_and then redied_

_as you morphed your hair  
black and long and a beard and darker skin  
and eyes that sparkled with mischief  
you wish you could morph your laughter into a bark too  
the way you morphed your breath into a husky hitch_

_and you offered him _him  
_ and he loved you as the hourglass inhaled  
and then he hated you with a passion  
because he said you weren't you  
and he loved you for you_

_he loved you_

she loved you

**III**

it was christmas and she loved you and you craved her touch and you didn't think of him even when he was in the same building in the creaky attic turning around from the hippogriff and bending in two  
breathless  
while you kissed her sweet  
again and again  
your hand on the satin pool of her back

wishing you couldn't love her  
wishing you'd just suffer without suffering more  
but you loved her  
and he knew  
and he half-teased that if you hurt his little cousin he'd feed your sorry ass to kreacher and hex your fucking balls off

and the worst part was

_ you knew he meant it_

_he said i love you and then he took it back and rewinded seven thousand times  
but you knew he meant it  
and you knew he craved your breath the way you craved his  
the way the candles flickered and the fire crackled and the fireflies inside your stomach swallowed you raw  
the way you could take over the world and snog senselessly on the couch by the glimmering lights and then_

_then you exchanged christmas presents  
a scarf you knitted without magic  
he said you'd always keep him warm  
and your world smiled  
and you wore your wood-carved fairy earrings and kissed_

_him_

_ that_

_ the thing he had inside_

**IV**

a monster

attacking a christmas tree  
ripping perfumed parchments into pieces  
inside her  
unmorphed and even more dangerous  
as you robbed her of her name

as you had your scars laced together by her tongue  
and shuddered at the moons reflected inside her irises  
as they captivated you in that same nightmare  
that you debauched her with your claws and fangs  
as you did to them to your friends to everything you had in a green tide murderous like a curse and her hair was green

that christmas eve  
streaked with red because she was feeling festive  
and she was a walking cliché  
in a purple ugly hinkypunk sweater a little too short when she stretched over the table for another glass of eggnog  
with silver tinsel around her neck

her mouth on your mouth  
her name between them  
she bit it off of your lips to take it away and you felt the need to protect it from the dust  
and breathe its hideous beauty into eternity  
_nymphadora_

_ obliviate_


End file.
